


The Biggest of Hearts

by Clovermun



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: But he did keep the rest of the camp alive so that's a debatable point, Depression, Frostbite, Hypothermia, I don't have much to say about this one, I guess you could say that there's implied wesgang but not really, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Maxwell is kinda a dick, Memory Loss, References to Depression, Repressed Emotions, Short One Shot, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 06:49:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13828785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clovermun/pseuds/Clovermun
Summary: Amidst an especially harsh winter, Maxwell makes a suggestion.A certain mime is the one to draw the short straw.





	The Biggest of Hearts

He told himself not to take it personally.  _ It could have happened to anyone _ , he repeated to himself for what must have been the hundredth time. But it didn’t happen to just anyone. It happened to him. Wes took another step into the cold, powder collapsing underfoot and sending him knee deep in freezing snow. All the camp had given him was a threadbare jacket that must have suffered years of use before it was passed on to him. None of them knew how to make boots. He tugged on his gloves to pull all of his fingers into fists, pressing them into his palms to keep them warm. It wouldn’t work for very long, he knew. Once again he went over the meager supplies he had been left with. Four tufts of grass, three pieces of flint, six sticks, a worn axe and a small pouch of berries that were already starting to turn. As badly as he wanted to make a fire, he had to keep his word. He was going to walk away from camp for a whole day before settling down. That way it was unlikely anyone would come across him. By the position of the sun he could tell that it wasn’t even midday. There was a long way to go, still. His limbs felt heavier with every step that he took away from the life he knew.

He didn’t blame anyone for this. He couldn’t. Maybe if it had been someone else, someone more useful, they would have reconsidered the whole plan, but Wes… it was common knowledge that he was nothing more than dead weight. Kept at camp only because nobody could handle the thought of letting another human being perish. Well, until now. Wes reached up to wipe a tear from his face only to find it frozen in place, simply sitting there upon his cheek. Dead weight. He sighed, watching the puff of breath disperse through the air. The thermal stone in his pocket had grown cold. Shivers wracked his body, so powerful now that he had to pause to regain his balance. When he looked up at the sun, it was as if it hadn’t moved at all. Part of him considered burrowing into the snow as best he could and just lying there for a while, but he managed to push the thought away. No. He had to keep going, just like he promised. Ignoring the feeling of water rising between his toes with every step he continued to force his way through several feet of snow. Trees were popping up around him now, leaving him shuffling back and forth to avoid bumping into trunks and branches. The last thing he needed was to be showered with even more snow. He had to live through at least one day, just to prove to himself that he wasn’t a complete failure. And maybe, just maybe, if he managed to survive the winter, he could go back home. That was what they had agreed upon. It was just for the winter. Just for the winter. His chest ached as he remembered all the pained expressions and tight hugs before he went away. Wolfgang had nearly cracked his ribs with his embrace. The only one that stalwartly refused to see him off was Maxwell. Wes didn’t blame him either. Maxwell had made plenty of improvement after being freed from the throne, but he was still Maxwell after all. Sometimes he took it upon himself to be the heartless one in the name of survival. Someone had to do it, Wes understood. Sacrifices were necessary in the hardest of times. This was no exception.  _ He _ was no exception. 

Wes didn’t notice that he had fallen over until he started to choke on the snow his face had become buried in. Weakly, he tried to push himself up, the snow compacting underneath his palms. His gloves were soaked now, no longer helping him keep his hands warm. Swaying to his feet, he reluctantly stripped them off. God, his fingers were pale. It was like all the blood had been drained from them. His fingertips were turning blue. Surely that wasn’t a good sign. Was he really going to die out here?

_ Why try to survive? _

The voice he had managed to suppress for years finally broke through the barrier he had placed in his mind. Wes closed his eyes tightly as if that would somehow shut the voice out.

_ They don’t care about you. It was all a facade. _

The words were lies. He knew that. But even so, it was so enticing. He  _ wanted _ to believe them. He  _ wanted _ to be upset. It was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time. Falling back into that pit was so tempting sometimes, but it was even stronger now that there was no one to save him from it. Was he going to succumb? It would be so easy…

_ You’re going to die anyway. Why not do it now? _

He had to survive. He had to survive for them. They wanted him to. They… wanted him to… 

_ You were forced out because you were a burden. You know anyone else would have made them reconsider. _

Lies. It was all a lie. But… god, it was a beautiful lie. He wanted to hurt. He wanted to  _ hurt _ . All of the pain and frustration he had pushed into the deepest crevasses of his mind were suddenly swarming him. His distaste for Maxwell that had never been addressed, his anger at himself for never being anything but “moral support”, his fears of inadequacy, his annoyance with Willow for burning down half the camp, his frustration with Wendy for never letting him cheer her up, everything. It was so overwhelming. He had always known that bottling up his emotions wasn’t a good idea, and he did it anyways. 

_ Is this life of white lies really worth living? _

_ This is your chance. Nobody will blame you for this. Nobody will ever know it was your choice. _

He took another step forward, before tripping over a rock and tumbling to the ground once more.

_ Don’t get up. _

Suddenly, he found himself unable to move. His body trembled with exertion as he struggled against that mental barrier. He needed to find his will again, his will to continue, but it felt as far away as the end of the day.

_ Just close your eyes. _

He wanted to scream, to cry out, but as always his voice failed him. The most Wes could do was twitch his fingers. He tried to press them into the snow and move his hands, to progressively work up to his entire body, but that only dug them deeper into the soft snow. Tears welled in his eyes and obscured his vision despite his attempts to blink them away. This was too much. All of this was too much. He couldn’t do this anymore.

_ You don’t have to. Just sleep. _

Why had he been living for so long in the first place? What had been keeping him alive up until this point? He couldn’t remember anything. Not a single thing. Everything leading up to this point had just vanished from his mind entirely. Had there truly been nothing but guilt forcing him through every day? The more he thought about it the more fatigued he got. He was tired of this. He was tired of trying so hard for little reward, tired of trying to move on and convince himself this was all okay. It wasn’t okay. He didn’t forgive anyone. He blamed all of them. He blamed them for his plight, for not letting him just  _ die _ . Then again, wasn’t that what they were doing now? Like the voice said, this was his chance. He could just end it all, right here. What was stopping him? Hell, everything around him was encouraging this. The entire world, all of his surroundings, everything wanted him to die. Why not grant that wish? Why not be selfish for once? 

Just sleep.

His joints felt stiff, too stiff to flex his fingers properly. All his limbs sank heavy into the snow like lead. He was so tired, tired of life and walking and crying at night when nobody could see, tired of… of… god, he wracked his brain for answers but all he could find was that he was just  _ tired _ . Then again, did he need a reason? Did he need an answer? He just needed to sleep. He deserved the rest, didn’t he? After everything that had happened, everything he had been through, he deserved a break. He deserved an end, and an end he would get. Wes let his eyes slide shut. His body was gradually going numb much like his thoughts running rampant. His breaths were shallow now, chest rising and falling quickly as if he was having a panic attack. But inside, he was completely calm. There was nothing to worry about. He didn’t worry about the parts of his body that felt like they were burning. He didn’t worry about about the thundering footsteps in the distance that indicated a familiar beast approaching. He didn’t worry about the thudding of trees falling around him, or the desperate cries and grunts of animals as they ran for their lives. He didn’t worry about the loud breaths, the growls and sniffling… or the shards of ice that pierced through his chest in a split second.

He told himself not to take it personally.

It could have happened to anyone.

But it didn’t happen to just anyone.

It happened to  _ him _ .


End file.
